A Visit to the Colonies
by fragrantfields
Summary: Fanfic re:TV series "Lovejoy" dodgy antiques dealer/rogue in 1990s UK . Lady Jane's husband Alex invites her and her BFF Lovejoy to join him on a work trip to the US. Infidelity and hijinks ensue, UST abounds, and there's strawberries in the hot tub.
1. Chapter 1

Fandom: Lovejoy  
>Pairing: Lady JaneLovejoy, Alexander/OC  
>Rating: M<br>warnings for infidelity, language

Summary: Alexander, Viscount Felsham asks Lovejoy to accompany Lady Jane to Charlotte, NC, to join him on a business trip, circa 1992. Hijinks ensue, partially due to traffic on I-77.

**A/N: Out of my usual waters, so concrit, feedback, comments, corrections re: Brit-speak all welcome.**  
><strong>Written prior to finding LovejoyAlexander slash, so apologies in advance for disturbing anyone's kinder, slashier characterization of Alexander. **

**Disclaimer: Characters belong to Jonathan Gash, author, Ian McShane & Co, creator of "Lovejoy", and quite possibly BBC and/or HRH. Not making a pence on anything.**

.

They automatically grasped each other's hand as the wheels touched down. Even fortified by a couple of gin and tonics, neither were ready to say they enjoyed this part. The view of Lake Norman had been charming from the air, and the sunset had reflected nicely off the wings, but twinges of anxiety persisted until there was the final full stop.

"Got your documents handy, Janie?"

She sniffed." They'll be ready by the time we disembark and trail down to Immigration. No need  
>to have them out when we can't even stand up yet."<p>

Lovejoy rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to make sure you're prepared. That's what Alex is paying me for, isn't it?"

"Lovejoy! Alex never said…good Lord, he's not _paying_you, is he? For shepherding me to the States?"

He grinned, eyes twinkling. "He's paying me with hours and hours of your company, Jane, free and clear, for the most part. And the plane ticket, of course."

Lady Jane felt a faint flush rise to her cheeks. She had spent longer than she cared to think about curled up at her friend's shoulder, dozing on the flight. She could still feel the slight imprint of the shoulder seam of his shirt on her face. A few times, she had turned her nose closer to his hair, drifting back to sleep with his scent to keep her company. This had been more intimate contact than they had ever had at one time, and she had to admit, at least to herself, that she had quite enjoyed it.

The line of passengers began to move.

"I'll get the carry-ons down." Lovejoy stood in front of her, reaching into the overhead compartment. Bags had indeed shifted, just as the flight attendant had warned. He glanced down as he waited for another traveler to wrestle with his over-large bag. He grinned again as he realized his posture and Lady Jane's seated angle was giving her quite the close-up of his jeans-covered bits.

"Sorry about the view, love."

She determinedly looked away. "A gentleman wouldn't draw a lady's attention to the view by a feigned apology."

"Really? You know, there's times I wonder how the upper class gets laid at all. Oh, sorry, miss," he said to the disapproving lady in the aisle.

He finally got the bags down and stood in the aisle, waiting for Lady Jane to get up.

"Frequently, according to my friends, there's someone of your sort around. Like you, for example."

Annoyed, she made her way down the aisle, his "That was only a couple of times, Janie!" trailing behind her.

.

.

"Jesus, did half of Europe decide to holiday in America this week?"

The lines were long in Immigration & Customs, travelers of every stripe on line, wearily clutching their passports and visa forms. Jane considered calling Alex and letting him know they'd arrived safely, but Lovejoy had grabbed her hand as she took her mobile out, pointing to signs posted around the cavernous space.

"Wouldn't know who to call, Janie, you get tossed in the nick for illicit use of a mobile."

"I hardly think they would arrest me for using a phone."

"This is America, love, and Carolina was one of the original rebellious colonies. Who knows what they'd do to a wayward member of British nobility?"

"Honestly, Lovejoy…" She humphed under her breath as a couple of willowy American teenagers, apparently returning from their own holiday, giggled behind them. She noted with some consternation that the eldest seemed to be thoroughly checking out the seat of Lovejoy's jeans.

"It seems you could have dressed a little more appropriately."

He watched the commotion around them. "This is America. Everybody wears jeans, all the time, right?

They finally made their way to the front of the queue. A bored-looking Immigration official stamped their passports and questioned them briefly.

"Purpose of travel?"

"Business," Lady Jane said crisply. She planned to use this trip to meet with some up-and-coming interior designers while Alex was in meetings.

"Pleasure…I hope," Lovejoy replied in a more languid tone that was called for.

The official looked at them more closely, then looked at their papers. "Not married, right?"

"Oh, she is. I'm not, not any more, thank God for small favors."

The official looked again at the tired but aristocratic lady and the aging hippie-looking fellow with her. Never a dull moment…

"Ah." He handed back their papers. "Welcome to America, and enjoy your stay." He watched the black-haired man put an arm around the lady's waist. _Bet there's a story there,_he thought. "Next, please."

Luggage collected, customs cleared with only one minor fracas (Mangoes? Really, _mangoes_? You get a lot of mango smugglers from the UK, miss?") Lady Jane was finally cleared to call Alex.

"Oh, darling, awfully sorry but this meeting is going on longer than I expected. No, I can't get away to pick you up. Well, I'm sure he can figure out the wrong side of the road. You've got the directions to the hotel? Right, then. Grab a bite on the way, dear. Hotel dining is down for the night, I believe. Love you."

.

The aristocratic blond man hung up and rolled back over. "I _am _sorry, Candace. I bought us another hour, tops, but then I'll really have to go."

The woman next to him twined a golden tanned arm around his neck. "We'll just have to see what we can do with one more hour, then," she drawled softly. "Will this be it, then, now that she's here?"

He ran a hand through her fluffy blond curls. "Not at all. That's why I told her to bring her hanger-on, Lovejoy. He'll keep her busy running around to antique shops and spending her money."

She cocked her head. "Is he, like, her best gay friend or something?"

Alex snorted out a bit of the horrid iced tea Candace had insisted he try.

"I don't think so, judging by the dalliances he has routinely with our female friends."

She stroked his chest with bright red nails. "You don't worry about them, then?"

He pulled her down to him. "Not anymore. Getting to the point of not caring is a wonderful  
>thing, it would seem. Now, let's leave off talk of my wife, shall we?"<p>

.

"If you know so bloody much, why don't you take the wheel and I'll sit back and critique your driving!"

Lovejoy looked out the windshield at the massive traffic jam, feeling uncomfortably exposed.

"And I feel like I'm asking to be sideswiped, hanging out on the wrong side!"

"Lovejoy, there's five lanes. You'd be next to other cars no matter what side you were on." Jane was sweetly reasonable as his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel.

"Christ, does everybody in this country drive an eighteen-wheeler? No wonder they're so frantic over the price of petrol."

"Alex said the traffic can be frightful in Charlotte." She was looking at directions and a roadmap.

"We _are _supposed to be on I-77 North, right?"

She turned the map around. "Well, the directions say yes, but on the map, it gets all jumbled with I-85 North, and these say Highway 485…oh hell, I don't know!"

"Well, it's no matter anyway, since we're never getting off this stretch of road." He fiddled with the radio, finding plenty of that noise Eric called music, a couple of twangy country stations, and finally recognized some decent tunes on a "Classic Rock" station. Not Top of the Pops, but at least there was some AC/DC.

Brakes and tires squealed up ahead, then a shattery grinding crash.

"Oh, bloody hell, now there's a crash ahead of us." He sat, fuming, as sirens began filling the air. The slow-moving traffic ground to a halt. After a few minutes of emergency vehicles and commotion, he noticed some cars driving along the shoulder to an exit a bit ahead.

"Janie, hang on. We're getting off this Godforsaken stretch." He began looking for a chance to swerve right.

"Lovejoy, are you sure this is entirely legal, to take off down the shoulder?"

"If I always waited for "entirely legal" I'd be selling socks." He gunned his engine enough to break out of the interminable line and into the caravan of vehicles off-road.

Happy just to be moving again, he grinned until they arrived at the exit stop sign.

"You've got the map, Janie. Which way?"

"That would require having an idea of where we are, which I do not."

"Fine!" He exploded. Glaring at the road signs which refused to offer the name of anyplace familiar, he turned left.

"Boone? I don't see that on the…oh, wait." She turned the overhead light on.

"Good God, Lovejoy…you've aimed us towards the mountains."

"I don't see you navigating any better."

He pulled the rental car into a petrol station.

"Look, Janie, we're never getting back on the highway tonight. When we crossed back over the bridge, it looked like a car park for miles in both directions. Call Alex and give him an update, and tell him we're finding a place to kip down for the night and we'll see him tomorrow."

She frowned. "He's not going to be very happy about that."

Strong white teeth showed as he gritted out, "I'm not very happy about him not arranging for our  
>transport. Feel free to bring that to his attention, while you're at it."<p>

He got out and walked around the car park while she called again. They were past the blazing bright white and red lights of Charlotte, and he could make out miles of forest on both sides of the highway. Stars twinkled overhead, the moon waxing almost full. There was a sweet scent in the air, under the exhaust and road smells. Lovejoy started to relax a bit, loosening his shoulders after hours of tension.

"Y'all need some help?"

He turned to the young man coming out of the shop, wearing the ball cap, plaid shirt and jeans that seemed to be_de rigueur_around here.

"Quite possibly. We were coming out of the Charlotte airport and got a bit turned around. Can you tell us where we are?"

"Spencer Mountain, friend. Dang, y'all aren't from around here, are ya?" He grinned at the unfamiliar British accent.

"Guilty as charged," he replied, throwing in a belated "Mate" for good measure. "You know of any hotels near here? We're going to try to get together with a…friend in Charlotte in the morning."

The young man looked at the high-end rental car, nodding thoughtfully to himself. "It's a good little ways to a real hotel that's not a "no-tell motel" type, but if you can hang on a minute…" he ducked back into the shop.

Lovejoy looked back at the car. Lady Jane was still on the mobile, doing more listening than talking.

"Well, try to find something…you should have stayed put, Jane. No, not at _home_, I mean on the highway. That was his decision, I take it? I'm sure you can make your way to a decent hotel…this town is positively crawling with them. What? How far out of Charlotte?" Alex sighed, although he had started to grin at his bed-mate.

"Just…do the best you can. I'm sure Lovejoy will come up with something ingenious. Call me when you get in, and we'll sort it out tomorrow. You, too."

A sleepy voice came from under the covers. "What now?"

"Now we're going to do whatever you like, darling. Jane's been delayed and is going stay over in…well, wherever they've found themselves after detouring off the main highways."

She sat up. "We've got all night?"

"Seems so. I'm ringing for a bottle of champagne." He leaned back over to the phone.

She let the sheet fall down to her lap. "You must trust this Lovejoy guy a lot."

He hung up after ordering, staring at her golden skin. "Not really." He reached for her again, and found himself completely incurious about Jane's and Lovejoy's arrangements for the night.

.

Back in the rental, Lovejoy read through the directions twice before handing them off to Jane, along with a set of keys.

"And it's his sister's place? Are you sure about this?"

"Janie, Janie…it's a proper holiday rental, had a brochure and everything. It just happens not to be rented tonight. Here, look at this." He handed her the brochure while he looked for landmarks mentioned by the good Samaritan.

She turned on the overhead light. "Oh…my. Did you look at all this?"

"Nah, just to see it looked fit enough. What?" He glanced over. He could tell she was trying to hide a smile.

"It's got a hot tub…outside."

"Oh, really?" Visions of him and Jane lounging in a hot tub flickered through his mind.

"Listen…"a private, tree-screened nook on the bedroom deck holds a hot tub (seats 4)." Oh, my…"

His mental vision switched to "naked" and flickered some more. "Sounds decadent."

"I thought this area was all…churchy and conservative."

"Well, maybe they just put on a better show that we do."

Jane gave an unladylike snort. "A better show that British aristos, as you say? Really, Lovejoy…I thought you had more faith in our hypocrisy."

He glanced over. "You all right, Janie? Talked to Alex, all is well?"

She looked away. "All seems quite fine on his end. He sounded positively relieved that he could keep going at his precious meeting undisturbed."

He patted her hand in silence, feeling the warmth of her thigh underneath. "It'll all get sorted out in the morning, love. No worries, eh?" He grinned. "We're in the rolling landscape of the South, home of Scarlett O'Hara, magnolias, and Dolly Parton. It'll be fun."

"You do realize you're referencing icons of Georgia and Tennessee, and we're hopefully still in North Carolina."

He turned on the second dirt road on the directions. "Picky, picky."

.

They rattled over a deeply rutted road running between enormous overgrown pines. Just as Lady Jane was feeling twinges of alarm, the headlights shone on a small hand-painted sign in front of a locked gate.

""Dove's Rest Cabin. Private. No Trespassing." Looks like they take their privacy seriously," he said as he got out to unlock the gate.

They could almost feel the woods closing around them, shutting out everything except the neat little log cabin, tin roof glowing in the moonlight.

.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Bubble, Bubble**

He drove down the sloped drive to the circular car park. Looking back up the slope, he realized the drive was completely shielded from the road by the slope.

"What's that area off the side? It looks like it's…moving."

Lovejoy plucked he brochure from her hands and started chuckling. "If you'd taken time to check out the back, you'd know. Look." He pointed at a short paragraph about the small private swimming pool.

A string of small white lights lit a slate pathway from drive to front porch.

"I need to call Alex and let him know we've arrived." She got out on her side, phone in hand.

He got out as well and took the phone from her hand. "In a minute, Janie. You're missing the important bits again." He dropped the phone in her purse and turned her so she was looking out over a long, undulating field that went on as far as they could see. He stood behind her and held her shoulders lightly.

"Look up."

"Oh, my goodness! So very many stars, and so close-looking…and the sky is so black." She sighed. "It's incredible. It's every cliche I've ever heard about diamonds and velvet,"she laughed.

He looked at the stars with her for a moment, then looked at her profile as she turned.

"Incredible, yes."

She felt herself leaning back into him, felt him bracing to steady her. She allowed herself one, two breaths of his support before pulling away.

"We should be getting out things inside, don't you think"?

He sighed. "Ladies first." He held the door open, looking up again at the sky. Jane took up her purse and carry-on as he got his duffle out of the trunk. Their steps were cautious in the dim light. Lovejoy fumbled with the keys until he found the one fitting the door, and ushered her inside.

As tired and frustrated as she was (and a bit anxious about the coming night, if she was entirely truthful with herself), she still had the energy to light up with a smile at the living room.

"This is just charming." She ran her hand over the river rock chimney, hearth, and fireplace that took up part of the living room. A polished plank ceiling soared overhead, sloping down towards the kitchen.

"This is just…odd."

She turned and saw him looking at sparkling letters strung together, spelling out "CONGRATUATIONS!" over the mantel.

Her pulse jumped for a split second, then jumped again as the phone rang. She looked at Lovejoy and motioned hm to pick up the phone.

"Lovejoy, here."

A rich Southern tone rolled over the wire.

"Good evening. This is Dovey Carr, the cabin's owner. May I assume you're the gentleman of the couple staying at Dove's Rest tonight?"

"You may, and you have our undying gratitude, Ms. Carr." He motioned to Jane that the owner was on the phone.

"Glad to help. I just wanted to briefly explain the circumstances of the cabin. There's a book of instructions on the coffee table that should explain how everything works."

He heard a soft gasp from the kitchen.

"And I should explain that there were some extra touches put out this morning as the people who canceled were celebrating their first anniversary, poor dears. Either he, or she, not sure which, came down with the flu. At any rate, it won't keep, so please help yourself to the contents of the refrigerator."

"Ms. Carr, do we need to sign a register, or do an advance payment, or anything?" He was quite keen to ascertain if she would be dropping by anytime soon. His luck, he'd be starkers in the pool.

"No, Mr…I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Lovejoy. No mister, just Lovejoy."

"I…see. My number is on the fridge. When you feel it's convenient, give me a buzz tomorrow and we'll take care of that. No hurry."

"Might be a bit of a problem, Ms. Carr. We'll be leaving tomorrow, I expect." He looked around again at the spacious room, the French doors showing the pool's glimmer in the moonlight, and wondered if that would be strictly necessary.

"Oh? Pity…rates are on the brochure, then, Just leave your payment on the table."

_What? _"That doesn't sound very…certain for you, does it, Ms. Carr? How do you know we won't just take off in the morning, leaving you with no payment at all?"

He heard a soft chuckle. "Somehow, Lovejoy, that never seems to happen. People tend to be in too good of a mood when they leave, to try to take advantage. Have a nice night, and call me tomorrow, all right?"

"Certainly, Ms. Carr. And thanks again."

"Lovejoy, the refrigerator is positively_ packed_." Jane held the refrigerator door open.

He looked in and nodded. Whites and champagne chilled, reds on their side in the counter wine rack... three types of stemware in a glass-fronted cabinet nearby. He looked at a label of one of the whites.

"Janie, look at this. All the wine is made locally. Wonder if there's moonshine in the cupboard?"

"Isn't that a lot of whipped cream? There's only one box of strawberries to go with."

His mouth turned up in a smirking grin. "Not a lot for an anniversary weekend. Looks to be just about the right amount."

"Oh, really..." she shook her head, quite possibly trying to hide a small smile, he thought.

An assortment of dips, meats, cut vegetables, and cheeses were wrapped in the fridge. Crackers and crisps were on the counter, cookies were under a glass domed server.

"She said to help ourselves. The other couple couldn't make it."

Jane pondered over the "_other _couple" remark as she fished for her phone again.

"Alex? Are you all right? Well, we made it into a decent place…yes, it's clean. Of course they had two rooms. We'll start out as soon as we can in the morn…what? Who? Not the _Atlantic,_surely…oh, Lake Norman? Yes, we saw it from the plane. What time is he wanting to leave?"

Lovejoy could see her face start to freeze, Jane being too well-bred to scream into a phone, even when appropriate.

"I see. Men only? Oh. So the women can't bring their husbands, either? Yes, darling, it does sound deadly dull…so what time will you be coming back into port, or dock, or whatever they call it here? I see. So dinner at his lake house…" she sighed. "Yes, I'm sure we can poke around here, do some shopping. Yes, that _would _be quite late to try to navigate Charlotte again." She broke off as Lovejoy waved something in her face, pointing with his other hand. She scanned the policy notice.

"Well, maybe it's just as well. They have a two night minimum, and," she crossed her fingers with a twinge of guilt, "we were going to have to pay for two nights anyway, even leaving out first thing. The owner is a dear lady, but rules are rules, I'm afraid. Oh, she's very kind, quite…Southern. A very considerate hostess. Yes, darling…I'll call you in the morning. Sleep well."

She turned to find Lovejoy cocking an eyebrow at her, pretending to applaud.

"Lady Jane…if I didn't know better, I'd think this was a B&B with an owner in residence, acting as chaperone. Bravo!"

She looked like a schoolgirl caught with a handful of cookies. "I never said that, did I? And she does seem…considerate."

He grabbed her hand. "Let's explore. We can start with one of the referenced two bedrooms." He uncorked the white and filled glasses as they prepared to reconnoiter the environs.

He refilled her glass as she stood in the master bathroom, admiring the jewel-toned Jacuzzi ringed with candles, light from the outside lamp illuminating the stained glass window.

And again when she padded around the master bedroom, accessorized with fewer candles, but with terrycloth bathrobes hanging side by side, a thick sheepskin rug over rich green carpet.

Lovejoy ran his hand over the bedding. "Egyptian cotton, 800 thread count, sateen stripe, Laura Ashley comforter, a few years away from vintage status for the USA."

"What's that door?" She pointed at a glass-paned door to one side of the bedroom.

He grinned. "Maybe that's the second bedroom." _And wouldn't that be interesting? _Opening it, he had his turn to be gobsmacked.

"Don't see this in private houses much."

"What, a sunroom? I thought they were fairly…oh."

The sunroom was ringed with windows and festooned with grapevine motifs. And also with a padded leather massage table covered in white sheets, a basket of scented oils and a few more candles on a low table. A stereo was alongside it. He picked up a tape next to the stereo.

_"Kama Sutra: Song of Love, Sounds for the Sensual Massage, Lovers' Collection…"_. He turned towards a blushing Jane.

"Well, I'm _looking _for the ones for "just good friends" but all I'm finding seems to be…the other." His face was the picture of innocence.

More exploring led them to a back deck with promised hot tub and stairs leading down to a softly lit swimming pool, water glowing a luminous blue. Nothing but forest stretched out as far as they could see. They found the second and third bedroom; one a loft, sized for the average six year old, and one in the converted basement, complete with two spiders. That sent them scurrying back up to the bedroom deck and the warm night air.

_To hell with Alex and his room count,_ he thought. _If not the master bedroom, it'll be the living room couch for me._He wondered idly why Americans seemed fixated on queen-sized beds that seemed to subtly suggest that two people could very well share a bed and not be on top of each other…so to speak. The image of a bright red luscious apple in a tangled garden came to mind.

Jane finally seemed to be relaxing. He noticed the weight of the bottle he'd been carrying around had dropped considerably. Not really to his taste, on the sweet side, heavily grapey, and, well…not very G&T, but it went down easily enough.

He wondered how much of a scoundrel he would have to be, to take advantage of an inebriated Lady Jane. He looked at her over the rim of his glass, her staring off into the dark forest, straight-backed but somehow vulnerable. He sighed, thinking he fell about ten percent short of being scoundrel enough for that. He contemplated what passed for his moral compass when he heard a gurgling, splashing sound behind him.

"Well, I was just curious to see how it worked…" Jane bit her bottom lip in an embarrassed smile, empty wineglass held loosely in her hand.

He shifted to make his _other _compass, which was pulling strongly north, less obvious, as the water bubbled and steamed between them.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't be so…working class, Lovejoy. One thing I did retain from my honeymoon was the awareness that nude bodies are not as titillating as one would think, given enough exposure."

"Is that so?" He took the dangling glass out of her hand.

"It most certainly is. A generally comical sight, for the most part, a West Indies beach full of people of all shapes and sizes…and ages…lolling about and getting their pale parts burnt to a crisp."

"Ouch." He winced, juggling glasses and bottle in one hand.

"I must say, Jane, " he grinned in the faint light, "I'm impressed. And rather intrigued. So, you and Alexander honeymooned at a…nude…"

She looked down at her empty hand. "Not really, but we did go over to the French side of St. Martin's a couple of times. Really makes one wonder what all the fuss is about." She waved a hand towards the bottle. "Is there any more of that?"

"In the kitchen, near the food." He began herding Lady Jane in the direction of the celebratory buffet.

"So, in a beachful of naked sorts, nothing particularly memorable, eh?"

She stopped at the door, looking down at the pool. He had to put a hand at her back to keep from running into her. Her voice was soft and a touch wistful. "Yes, actually, there was one memorable nude body. A lady…"

"Didn't know you cared, Janie." He cocked an eyebrow.

"Not like that, silly. There was this lady…she wasn't young, or particularly fit, and she had a couple of scars, from having a Caesarean section and some other surgery. She was smiling, and friendly, and she and her husband looked so very much in love…I can still remember thinking "that's_ marriage_…still cherishing each other after so much living."

She turned to lean up against the deck railing, back in time to a white beach and blue water under the Caribbean sun.

"The man had a long scar down his chest…his heart, I suppose. And to see their bodies like that…" She looked at him with questioning eyes. "Do you understand, Lovejoy? I was so young then, and just married, and this couple had so much…_life _showing in their naked forms." Her eyes grew misty. "They were a lovely visual representation of commitment, "in sickness and in health, till death do us part." And I had every expectation of being like that one day."

He touched her face lightly with his free hand. "Of course I understand." His voice was a warm murmur in the mild night air. "That's why I'm drawn to real antiques, isn't it? They become repositories of parts of our lives even beyond the physical body. You have an artist's eye, Jane. That's a lovely memory, and a lovely expectation. You should hold on to that…it's a good one to have."

He grinned. "And speaking of bodies, mine's famished, and yours has had a half-bottle of wine on an empty stomach. C'mon!" He tugged at her hand to get her started towards the kitchen again.

Two plates, empty save for a few strawberry hulls, were stacked on a bench by the hot tub. Champagne released tiny bubbles in two plastic glasses nearby. Lovejoy looked at Jane, wrapped in a lush burgundy robe. The choices of massage table, pool, or hot tub had been an embarrassment of riches, but they finally agreed that a warm soak would feel the best, both feeling the effects of mild jet lag and the wine.

He raised his glass. "Go ahead, Miss Open-minded, it's-all-just-bodies. The proletariats are waiting to follow your lead." He smiled.

"I might have been a bit…melodramatic in my reminiscing." A wave of uncertainty washed across her face.

He stood. "No, not at all, Jane. Your observations were touching." _And just a little more poignant that I'd like_, he thought. "C'mon, then…satisfy my artistic curiosity." He grinned as he reached for the belt of her robe.

She stepped back. "Just…give me a minute." Even in the dim light, he thought he could see her cheeks flush. Visage in full-on "Her Ladyship" expression, she let the robe drop from her shoulders.

He stopped grinning, started concentrating on keeping his breathing even.

"Oh, Janie…you are marvelous." He moved towards her. "No, don't move. Just…do something for me, would you?"

Her skin pebbled in the night air. "Lovejoy, do you think…?" She began to cross her arms.

His look was intense, no longer playful. "Here, move your right hip up and back." He raised an eyebrow by way of asking permission. She was silent and pliant as he touched her hip gently, moving as he asked. "Now relax your arms…"

She studied his face as he ran his hands up her arms to reposition them back and over her head. The contact seemed almost impersonal, yet reverent, like she had become a precious inanimate object.

"What…?"

"Shh." His hands ran like nubbed silk over her skin. He looked dead serious, champagne forgotten for the moment. "Bend back just a tiny bit…yes, that's it."

"That's it, _what? _This is quite strange." Yet she didn't move.

He smiled. "You, love, are a living, breathing, work of art. Specifically, Rene Lalique, his nude dancer...in this light, you could almost be made of frosted crystal. God, Jane, you are exquisite."

She should have been annoyed, posed like a Harrod's mannequin. But she thought she could see herself through his eyes: hips tilted, breasts forward, crystalline, exhilarated from completing a complex ballet step. There seemed to be more appreciation, more _affection_, than lust in his look. She remembered the couple on the West Indies beach.

"Are you done, then?"

_Almost certainly not._"Sure…I just—." He shrugged. "For my mental collection, I suppose."

He held out his hand to help her up the steps. For a moment she was silhouetted against the moon, then lowered herself into the bubbling water.

"Ahhh…" She sighed with pleasure as the jets began gently needling and thudding against her skin, the heated water warming her muscles. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes in pleasure. A breeze heavy with honeysuckle wafted over the water's surface.

"Holy _hell, _that's hot!"

She felt water splash into her face as Lovejoy sat in the seat across from her. She opened her eyes.

_No grand unveiling for me, I suppose,_she thought, as she watched the water foam and froth at his chest.

He caught her look. "Oh, did you want…should I get out and in again, establish exposure equity?"

She splashed water in his direction. "I've seen plenty, remember? Unless you've changed something since you passed out on my couch."

He tried drawing himself up in a dignified manner, failing miserably. "I fell into an exhausted sleep, as I recall, and you took liberties."

"I took your filthy clothes and ran them through the wash, you mean."

He moved to the seat beside her. "I did have high hopes when I realized you'd gotten me naked and helpless…." He reached over to fetch the champagne, as she quietly admired the curve and lines of his back and hips. "Of course your sense of virtue trumped your sense of adventure. Pity, that." He handed her the glass.

Somehow, with the foaming water camouflaging what lay underneath, it was easy to touch hip to hip, then lean together, thighs touching, gently rubbing against each other as the water made their limbs buoyant.

Jane's tense, knotted muscles relaxed bit by bit as his arm rested lightly over her shoulders, then pulled her closer to his chest. She leaned against him, watching the moon, and stars forming their constellations, and the green flickering lights of an airplane far overhead. Leaves rustled in the trees overhanging the deck.

She thought she felt lips touch her hair as they idly talked of the day, and the day to come. She sipped at her champagne and breathed in his scent mixed with the faint bouquet from her glass.

_I could turn, throw a leg over him, and consummate this irritating longing right now_, she thought. _And I might, if I had any idea what that would mean for all of us on down the road. If I knew for sure if Alexander…_

The water stilled as the 30 minute cycle ended.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The water resembled the champagne they had drunk as the effervescent bubbles slowly dissipated to a still calm. Jane reached over and pushed the button that turned off the lights in the hot tub, their pale skin too visible for her comfort. The spa had accomplished its purpose; both were relaxed and boneless, knots and tension quite kneaded away.

Lovejoy stirred first, slowly sliding his arm off of her shoulders. "I suppose we'd better go inside. Unless, you know…you'd rather not?" He studied her face in the moonlight. The warm Carolina night would have been an adequate blanket if they'd had something soft to lie on. _Like the sheepskin rug in the bedroom, _he thought.

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "No, I think we should go in. I could almost fall asleep right here, and to have "drowned in a hot tub" in my obituary…I don't think I'd like that at all."

"You wouldn't be the only one. Okay, up you go." He waved a hand towards the steps.

"Would you mind…looking elsewhere, please?"

"Janie, for God's sake…do you mean to tell me you've got something I haven't seen yet? "

"Getting out doesn't seem as dignified-looking as getting in was."

He drew his eyebrows together. "So, I can see you naked, but not possibly silly-looking, is that your point?"

She smiled. "Precisely. Bravo on your quickness, Lovejoy."

He humphed and turned towards the forest.

"All right, I'm out." He turned as she was slipping into her terrycloth robe.

"Would you extend the same courtesy, love?"

Now her brow wrinkled. "When has looking foolish ever bothered you before?"

"It's not "foolish" I'm concerned about. Things are just in a bit of a state after the cuddles and coos, is all. Of course, if you've no objection…" He put his hands on the railing and started to stand up.

"I'm going, I'm going! " She slipped into the cabin, leaving him to get out and dry off in privacy.

He grinned to himself. Between the hot water and his increasing exhaustion, he doubted he could have risen to the occasion if presented with a harem, but she didn't have to know that. _Bloke had to keep his reputation intact, didn't he? _

Then he began picturing who he would choose if he did have a harem. By the time he got to the Italian girl, he realized his exhaustion wasn't as bad as he had originally thought. _Damnable artistic sensibilities, _he thought.

Now dried, fluffed, and folded into the plush robe, he stepped into the evocative little sunroom, ran his hand admiringly over the leather table, and reluctantly left the basket piled with oils and lotions. He agreed with Scarlett, he thought. _"Tomorrow is another day."_

"Janie?" He looked around the bedroom, then heard a garbled "I'm in here", obviously spoken around a toothbrush.

Lovejoy sat on the foot of the bed, rummaging through his duffle for his toiletries and mulled over sleeping arrangements.

And friendships.

And consequences.

That last bit didn't feel entirely normal for him so he went back to the friendship part. He hadn't been sure what Lady Jane had expected from this trip, and if she had packed something feathery and erotic for Alex's benefit...and if she had that kind of thing on when she came back in the room...well, he wasn't sure at _all _that friendship and common sense would prevail. If she-he became momentarily distracted as he thought of all the "if"s.

"Lovejoy? Are you decent?" She waited on the other side of the closed door.

"Popular opinion would probably say no, but I've got my robe on, if that's your question."

"Good enough." She opened the door. Her skin glowed with a fresh scrubbing, eyes amazingly bright considering their long day…and covered from neck to toes in heavy cream-colored satin pajamas.

He hated his imagination sometimes.

.

.

"If you're sure..." they both said simultaneously.

Yes, he was sure he didn't want American spiders dangling over his head in the basement bed. Or his sense of claustrophobia kicked into high gear by the tiny loft. He was _absolutely _sure that he would prefer sleeping in the extra-large, pillow-top, Laura Ashley-themed bed in the pattern of Chinese Silk. And with the "pajamas of chastity" she was wearing, he was also sure that stepping over any lines inadvertently would be next to impossible.

Jane was sure that she didn't want to take sheets off one of the other beds and try to make up the couch, then lie awake feeling guilty over his discomfort. And she was sure that she didn't want to lie in bed alone, wondering if Alex was in more steamy circumstances, and feeling the fool. And she was completely, totally sure that nothing would happen that she didn't _want _to happen.

Which, of course, was the crux of the problem. Knowing Lovejoy, though, she suspected his desire to not bungle their friendship and business partnership would be a fraction stronger than his desire to bed her. _Probably._

She eased herself between the elegant sheets, sighing at the softness, while he took his turn with toothbrush and flannel.

"Can you move over, Janie?" She felt the bed shake a trifle and realized she'd drifted off.

She looked up a bit blurrily at Lovejoy, barefoot and in a pair of jeans. "Why aren't you ready for bed?"

"I am ready for bed. Move over. You're on my side."

"You're in jeans yet. Where are your pajamas?"

He rolled his eyes. "Do I strike you as the type to wear anything to bed? Hell, I only wear _underwear _on special occasions."

Her eyes opened with alarm (and something else she wasn't prepared to think about right now).

"You're not getting in here naked."

He twitched at the comforter. "Hence, the jeans. Oldest and softest pair I own, kept around for comfies or if I need to sleep with a virtuous woman. Now, scoot!"

Jane's lip stuck out almost unperceptively, a most ladylike pout. "I always sleep on the right side."

"A gentleman sleeps nearest the door in an unfamiliar environment. "

"You just made that up."

He settled on the side of the bed. "I'll show you that rule in a guide to, um, American etiquette for all occasions, Southern states edition, when we get back. It's a safety issue." He unleashed his most sincere expression, the one reserved for the combination of highest stakes and most questionable provenance.

She deliberately tightened her jaw. "Fine. The windows look easy to break into and they're on the left. So go be my protector on the other side." She flopped down with no intention of moving. She'd seen (and seen through) that expression on more than one occasion.

Defeated, he padded over to the other side, muttering about being out-maneuvered by an amateur. Finally they settled in, carefully keeping a couple of inches between them. Too tired to engage in any more verbal wrangling, or their own skewed way of not-flirting, they watched the moonlight make patterns on the comforter as their eyelids grew heavy. Both started out lying flat on their backs, hands crossed, reminiscent of a couple of royal effigies in a cathedral. With that discomfiting thought in both their heads, they finally drifted off to sleep, bodies relaxing, their minds finally following.


	5. Chapter 5

She was lying on her stomach, arms loose and bent at the elbow, palms flat against soft cotton. The clean sweet smell of freshly laundered sheets mingled with a heavier scent of jasmine and ginger.

Hands slick with oil skimmed over her skin, long firm strokes of open palms, then firm fingertips leaving tingling tracks in their wake. She could feel her lungs expanding, pushing her up against the hands as her back lifted with her breath. She kept her eyes closed and listened to soft, even breathing and her own heartbeat.

She wasn't sure how she had ended up on the massage table, or when the room became so warm and light, and deliberately made the choice to not think about it now. Her brow twitched as something about the breathing seemed odd, more varied rates that she expected.

As thumbs kneaded into her spine and palms skimmed over miniscule hairs, making her skin shiver, she realized there were more than two hands on her body. _I should be alarmed, _she thought. Then she lost herself in her senses and where they led her.

She could feel a cool sheet over her skin being moved, shifted to expose more of her skin. Soft hands, and hands with a hint of callus, stroked along her flanks, over her bottom, her hips flexing without her being conscious of their movement. Cool fingers lightly ran over her neck, over the back of her arms and the sides of her breasts. She tensed as heat began to gather at her core, then breathed deep and let the heat travel where it would.

Warm fingers kneaded more firmly now, moving with her heartbeat's rhythm from the outer part of her leg to her inner thigh. More warm strokes covered the back of her knee, then to ankle, and by the time the hand was at her inner thigh again, her pelvis rocked against it of its own volition.

She held her breath, suspended, eyes still closed. She needed…

A low murmur, still carrying the precise received pronunciation of the upper class, was at her ear, words coinciding with light cool touches.

_It's all right, Jane._

_It's all right._

The voice moved further away, turning from her as Alexander addressed another. _It's all right._

The coolness and the voice moved still further, soft whispers of _It's all right, Jane _trailing away.

As a warm feeling of congruency, of _rightness _began to suffuse her, the warm, rough hands moved with a touch more force, a bit more haste. She could feel the soft ridge of curved fingers between her thighs, pressing, and pressing, as she began arching up, rocking against more sensation…

_Birdsong._

Trilling outside a still-dark window. Man-smell, thick with sleep and skin and hair. As Jane came out of her dream, she remained on the verge of what she knew would be a bone-melting orgasm, if she had been able to hold on to her dream-world for just one more minute. In her half-sleeping, half-waking state, she experimentally moved her hips just the slightest, then realized there was a rather massive-feeling masculine thigh between her legs, pressed up against her body, soft-rough denim rubbing against satin. If she could just go back to sleep…

Sleep-twitches caused the heavy bare arm across her breasts to rub just enough to make sensations fly down to where her skin met his. Another twitch pressed his thigh up harder against her. As her muscles tightened and her breathing became more irregular, she told herself this could not be happening, even as it started. Just as everything began to burst into bright sparks inside, her eyes firmly shut against the reality of it all, a niggling thought fretted her mind: _his twitching in his sleep got awfully regular there at the end._

He lay perfectly still, feeling her heartbeat and her breathing through his arm, both slowing from their momentary ragged intensity. It never failed…he could sleep still as a statue all through the night, but let him be awake and need to feign sleep, and his nose would start itching, his left side would beg to be turned over, his arm would ache to be moved a few inches in another direction. He was dying to stretch his leg. He hadn't even gotten to what he wished he could do with other insistent parts of his body…

Janie's breathing had evened out. He thought she was probably equally as uncomfortable, or more so, pretending to be asleep while aftershocks of what seemed like a perfectly lovely orgasm were still gently rippling.

Louder trilling outside the window made them both startle. Both snatched the opportunity to rearrange their bodies in more comfortable positions. Curled up on her side, now, Jane turned her head slightly towards him.

"What was that? Is it morning?"

"Shh…"it was the nightingale, not the lark"." He snuggled up against her back.

She giggled under her breath. "That's the girl's part, you know."

"I've always done quite well with girls' parts. Or so I've been told." He smiled into her hair.

"Go back to sleep, Janie. It's not six yet."

She murmured something he couldn't hear and snuggled into her pillow.

"Did you…do you want me to shift over a bit? Don't want to crowd you." Actually, he wanted to crowd her quite a bit, between his morning state, her satin-clad bottom millimeters away, and the lightest discernable scent of feminine arousal beginning to waft towards him.

As she was saying "you're fine", he was turning over, back towards her. He watched the sky begin to lighten and thought about the day—or night—when she would be fully awake, aware, and completely comfortable with what they were doing. He thought he could wait for that, as long as it didn't take _too _bloody long.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

The rich smell of fresh coffee came to her just as she was registering the feel of cool sheets under her hand where she had expected warm skin. She sniffed a couple of times to make sure, then finally opened her eyes. A few rays of sun made their way past the thick trees and into the log-lined room. Noting her friend's absence, she yawned open-mouthed and stretched, looking at the clock. 8:30…she wondered if Alexander was already out on that lake.

_Alexander…_she thought back on her unlikely dream, color coming into her cheeks. That hadn't happened in quite some time. Once, in the first few years, it was not uncommon for the dreaming to merge with the corporeal , her reach for him in her dream turning into her waking hands sliding over his sleek, sleep-heavy skin, him sliding into her wet waiting body still aroused from her imaginings. Jane wondered if anyone else populated his dreams these days.

The cabin was quiet, faint chirpings coming from outside but silent within. She wrapped herself in the borrowed bathrobe and slipped into the bath for a quick morning wash-up. Brushing her teeth, she caught flashes of red and yellow as the morning sun struck the stained glass window over the tub. She debated having a shower and change, but the coffee was irresistible, as was the curiosity of where Lovejoy had gotten to.

Bare feet against smooth plank floors, she went into the kitchen area. A carafe of coffee was in the coffee maker, cups, milk and sugar set out. The makings of a country breakfast were on the counter, but still no sign of him. Frowning, she went through the French doors to the deck.

"Isn't that _freezing?_" She watched him slice through the water, the sun making the water splashes sparkle as he swam the length of the pool.

"Morning, Janie!" He turned to look up at her, shaking water out of his long hair as he treaded water. "It's not bad at all once you get in, honestly." He grinned. 'Fancy a dip before breakfast?"

"I told you I didn't bring any swimwear, Lovejoy."

"And neither did I, but you don't see that stopping me."

She shook her head. "You are such a…a _boy_sometimes, Lovejoy. I'm for coffee. Please, go ahead and play Huck Finn at the swimming hole or whatever. I'll save some for you."

He grinned as she went back inside. Her cheek sounded like she had gotten over any embarrassment about their early morning…whatever that was. Birds were lucky, he thought. He had to plunge into a poolful of quite chilly water to get fully over their morning, which had been shockingly effective, once his teeth stopped chattering.

Jane stood just behind the lace curtains, feeling a bit terrible about enjoying the poolside view as she sipped her coffee. By the time he was leaving damp footprints on the kitchen floor, she was leaning on the kitchen island, ignoring his towel-wrapped body and wild ringlets of black hair falling to his shoulders.

"Pour me a cup, would you, Janie? I'll start a fry-up after I dry off." He padded back to the bedroom to grab jeans and tee shirt, leaving more damp footprints in his wake.

The fry-up turned into a more genteel cheese omelet after he turned a bent eye at the over-thin American bacon and looked in vain for potatoes and onions. At least the bread was lovely, chewy and home-made, he thought.

"Heard from Alexander?"

She looked into the dregs of her coffee. "It went straight to voicemail. I imagine they got an early start."

_Oh, I just bet they did_, he thought.

She sat her cup down with a louder clatter than she intended. "I'm for the shower. Do you want to start looking through those guides and planning our day?" She was down the hall before he could get "Sure thing, Janie" out of his mouth.

"Yes, Mrs. Carr. Dovie, of course. No plans yet…we'd love to hear your suggestions. Fifteen minutes, then. Great." He hung up.

Jane was fluffing her hair as it dried, dressed in what she imagined was "Saturday American Casual"; tailored white jeans, madras plaid shirt, sleeves slightly rolled, and blindingly white trainers. "Was that the owner?"

"Yeah, she's coming by in a few. You look like a sixth-form girl in that, Janie. Quite charming." He grinned, enjoying her blush as she shook her head.

"I'm a bit past that, and so are you, Lovejoy. Found any prospects for an outing?"

He fanned out some brochures on the coffee table. Some shopping, three wineries, a couple of state parks, a hiking trail, and a handful of historic districts. They were still sorting through their options when they saw a light start blinking on a sensor set by the door. A minute later, they could hear a car rumbling down the drive.

They looked at each other. For a rustic log cabin, it seemed to have quite a bit of security.

Their hostess had that hair favored by women of a certain age, he thought, that could-be-blond, could-be-white color, depending on the light. His image of an aging Melanie Wilkes (which he could not have said why that had come to his mind) had been shoved away by her faded jeans and her black "Bat Out Of Hell" Meat Loaf tee shirt over her trim figure. Introductions made properly, she and Jane chatted about Brighton and Aberdeen as they finished their coffee.

"Lovejoy…" Jane prompted, wishing she was close enough to give him a discreet elbow to the ribs.

"Oh—I'm sorry, Mrs. Carr…ah…Dovie." He realized he probably was giving the impression of ungentlemanly staring. "Do you mind if I ask about your necklace?" A tingling had started behind his eyes that had nothing to do with the flaming motorcycle on her shirt.

She smiled. "Which one, Mr. Lovejoy?" She had a number of chains and pendants around her neck, adding to her "well-bred bohemian" appearance.

"Just Lovejoy…the diamond between your, ah…front tire and handlebars, there."

She looked down. "Oh, yes, grandmother's engagement gift. Quite old, I would say."

Jane looked at the small diamond pendant. It seemed unremarkable, a bit small, but different from those worn by her smart friends. _Oh, Lord,_ she thought. He had his loupe at the ready and was staring at the lady's chest. _What a lovely impression._

Dovie lifted the chain over her head and handed the necklace over to Lovejoy and his jeweler's loupe.

The older lady gave Jane a smile that said "boys and their toys" as he turned the diamond this way and that.

"Haven't seen one like this in a long time. Gems…not really my thing, but this is quite an antique you have here. Look, Janie…" he handed her the gem and the loupe. "See the point? And the flat cut at the bottom? That's an "Old Mine" cut. See those side facets? And notice, it's not quite perfectly round…mined in the Indian diamond mines long before African mines were popular."

"When were your grandparents engaged, Mrs…Dovie, if you don't mind my asking?"

She smiled. "I had no idea the English could be so…inquisitive." She glanced at a rather embarrassed Jane, awkwardly holding the woman's jewelry in her hand.

"We're not, Mrs. Carr. Lovejoy tends to forget his manners when around antiques." She inwardly groaned as Dovie raised an eyebrow and tried to hide an amused grin. She handed her jewelry back, hoping that hadn't been taken the wrong way. She glanced at Lovejoy, who seemed far too entertained, considering he had started this.

"They were engaged in 1905, Lovejoy, but the diamond came into the family through my grandfather's mother, around—"

"—1870." he finished for her.

She slipped the necklace back over her head, looking at Jane. "He is good, isn't he?"

Lovejoy turned to Jane, expectant smile on his face. "Gonna answer the lady, Janie?"

"On occasion, Mrs. Carr. On the rare occasion." Her smile held a tinge of frost towards him.

After a discreet settling of the bill, all three flipped through the brochures, Jane and Lovejoy asking for recommendations.

"This is nice, but it's two hours' drive on very twisty roads", Mrs. Carr mused, fingertip on a brochure about Blowing Rock. "This winery is quite close, just down the road, but the wine is French-fashion and the owners are terrible snobs. But this…this is a friendly winery, just in the foothills, and about thirty minutes from here. It's quite popular with my guests."

"They make a good wine, then?" Jane asked.

She laughed. "Most is still closer to plonk than Napa Valley, but it's a nice outing, a decent light lunch…and then a quick half-hour back here." She stood, boot heels creaking against the wooden floor. "Most people staying here only go so they can say they actually went sightseeing and won't have to tell their friends they never left the property. That is, the folks who tell their friends about this place at all."

She took a few minutes to show them the workings of the stereo and fireplace, how to light the tiki torches poolside, and scribble directions to a small grocery three miles up the road "in case you decide to stay close today."

"Just let me know when you think you'll be leaving. No hurry…no one's booked until next week."

Jane looked over at Lovejoy, fiddling with the stereo. "We should be staying only one more night. My husband should be done with meetings by then and we'll be joining him in Charlotte."

She expected a raised eyebrow over that, as well, but her hostess's face was placidly neutral. "Please, feel free to invite him here, if you wish." She watched Lady Jane's face carefully. "Or not, of course. Again, as you wish."

Lovejoy gave Mrs. Carr a buss and a hearty thanks for everything, while Jane finally acquiesced to her request that they call her Dovie. Pulling the trash bag out of the bin, Dovie asked if Jane would help her get it into her trunk.

"Oh, here, let me." He reached for the bag, then noticed a cautionary look from Dovie.

"We're fine, Lovejoy. You might go check the hall closet for me, see if the picnic tarp and blankets are there, if you want to think about a nice picnic lunch on the grounds." Feeling quite dismissed, he went rummaging for the suggested supplies.

Jane trailed after Dovie, feeling a bit useless as the older woman didn't seem to need any help that she could see. Dovie shut the trunk on the trash and leaned against her car.

"You know…this is none of my business…" Jane began bracing herself. Odd that the woman would be turning Puritan now, but you never could tell about Americans.

"…and I'm not one to subscribe to New Age-y fads…but…" she sighed.

"Are you aware that things go a bit…greyish blue, in the air around you, when you speak of your husband?"

"I—no, I'm not aware of any such thing!" She hadn't thought the woman was old enough to be dotty, but what an odd thing to say.

"Probably nothing, just a trick of the light. Or maybe it's just me." She looked away from Jane, into the heavy-leafed trees. "Blue makes me think of loyalty. Grey…that's an old, sad tone." She looked directly into Jane's eyes. Later, if asked what color the woman's eyes were, she couldn't have said, but they kept her attention.

"Life is too short, to keep sadness and loyalty mixed for too long. Just my opinion, of course." She touched Jane's hand lightly. "I hope the grey lifts soon for you, If there's anything to that nonsense."

"Um, thank you. That's…thoughtful of you to say."

"Janie! Ask if there's more towels, please." Lovejoy called from the porch.

Dovie smiled. "More towels are in the under-sink cabinets. Pool towels are in the downstairs bedroom." She turned to get in her car.

"Dovie?" Jane bit her lip, wanting to ask, and not, at the same time.

"Yes, dear?"

"The colors thing…." She stopped, not sure how to proceed without sounding a fool.

"When you speak of _him,_it's an ombré effect, pink to red, shot through with blue. A bit like a very nice sunset."

"What do you suppose that means?"

The older woman slipped on her sunglasses. "Oh, I couldn't begin to tell you, Lady Jane. But I can tell you this…" she pulled down her sunglasses and looked at Jane over the rims. "I've been told this is an excellent place to figure out the meanings of things."

As she drove off, Jane looked back at Lovejoy, standing on the porch still. An errant sunbeam hit the stained glass window to his left, and for just a second, she saw him bathed in warm red light.

"So…winery, or ride through the hills, or…?" He bounced a bit on the balls of his feet,hands in his pockets, waiting for her reply.

She tucked her arm through his as they went back inside. "I think I'd prefer just…staying around here, if you don't mind."

He grinned at the gold nimbus of hair around her face. "Not at all, Janie, not at all."

TBC

Note: The Brighton and Aberdeen references are for venues played by Meat Loaf in the late 80s-early 90s when the US turned its collective back on him and the UK and Europe kept him touring


	7. Chapter 7

Oily hands slid over the middle of his back, up to his neck, then were running down his spine.  
>Alexander heard a soft chuckle behind his ear.<p>

"Missed a spot, Alex. I told you, you should've let me help in the first place."

He smiled over his shoulder at Candace. "That would have looked rather more cozy than I thought prudent."

She brushed feathery bangs out of her eyes and huffed. "It's SPF 40, not massage oil, for heaven's sake. Just trying to keep you off the burn ward."

He turned his back to the float, resting his elbows on the red canvas. Candace bobbed in the water, treading just enough to keep afloat in front of him. Her fluffy blonde hair snaked into wet tendrils around her shoulders, fringe and crown still held up by the architectural hairspray she had used before leaving the hotel. The effect was a bit unsettling.

She lay back in the water, ignoring the drifts of chatter coming from the deck above them. He jumped as he felt something brush against his hips, then looked down and saw white toes and red varnish. One toe began playing with the waist of his trunks.

"Heard anything from her this morning?"

A line flickered between his eyebrows. "I didn't really expect to," he lied. "I told her last night of our plans today…the company's plans. She knows I'm incommunicado today."

A dainty foot splashed water against his chest. "I know that, silly. I was there, remember?" Her expression turned thoughtful. "If I were her, I would have called this morning, though. Just for a "good morning, have fun, don't forget you're married" chat."

"She's not really like that." He pushed off the float, swimming out into the lake to stretch his muscles. The sun was light on his shoulders and the water was clear and blue, darker where tall island pines cast shadows on the lake. He wondered to himself when, exactly, Jane had stopped being like that. There had been a time…he ducked his head under the surface, swimming harder, further away from the boat. Further away from the flirtatious Southern charmer who was reminding him, even if inadvertently, of what he used to have.

Alexander floated on his back, almost losing himself in the impossibly blue Carolina sky, dotted here and there with picturesque clouds. Water filling his ears and muffling all sound, he felt alone and pleasantly adrift, not pulled towards anything or anyone. He came close to drowsing, still well within sight of the CEO's boat, and Candace lying on the float.

A vibration in the water pulled him out of his drift, getting stronger by the second. He flailed for a second, getting his bearings, as two jetskis came close enough to rock him with their wakes. Wiping lake water from his eyes, he realized how far away he'd gone, without meaning to.  
>He thought about the ease of drifting further than one realized, as he swam back to the boat.<p>

~~~~~~~~~  
>Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees, making the water sparkle when the slow current bumped up against a rock or tree root. A lush green smell of foliage lay over an under-note of rich earth and old leaves. The creek lazily wound its way past where they lay on an old quilt from the cabin. Pants legs still rolled up from wading in the calf-high water, Jane and Lovejoy looked at the blue Carolina sky through the tree limbs, occasionally sipping at a lush Chardonnay from plastic glasses. The picnic basket beside them was now empty of sandwiches and crisps. Jane was struggling with keeping her eyes open, the sun, food, and wine, and the easy company, lulling her to sleep. She wasn't sure if Lovejoy was in the same state, and somehow it seemed a bit too much bother to ask.<p>

Her eyes flew open as she felt a rough hand cover her mouth.

"Shh, Janie. Shh…look over to your right." She could barely hear him. She met his eyes with alarm, but he was smiling, eyes open and a bit awestuck.

She nodded and looked where he pointed as he removed his hand. On the opposite creek bank, there were two…no, three deer, one with the beginning of antlers, and two fawns on thin wobbly legs, brown and spotted with white. She snuggled back against him as they watched the deer nibble at the ferns and leaves around them. They moved in a line, the bigger ones taking the lead, the babies looking this way and that. Both grinned without realizing, charmed by the sight. Lovejoy slowly wrapped his free arm around Jane, barely breathing, wanting the moment to last. They could have been the only people on earth at that moment…just them and the deer.

Lovejoy looked from the deer down to Jane, lips parted in a delighted smile. He could feel her sense of peace in her bones, loose-jointed and easy. Part of him wished she could always look like this: quiet joy and pleasure. Part of him wished she could look at him like that. He wasn't sure if a cloud passed overhead, or if it was his realization that these easy times were limited by their nature, that caused the light to cool and dwindle a bit. He looked into the huge brown eyes of the biggest deer, but there were no answers there. Soon enough, one of them twitched, or moved in some infinitesimal way, and the deer startled and scattered, babies pogo-ing on their springy legs behind their parents.

"That was amazing, wasn't it? Janie, you should have seen the look on your face. Like you were looking at angels." He smiled down at her, still leaning into his arm.

Her eyes searched his face, his warm eyes and gentle smile. When he wasn't trying to borrow money or pull her into some scheme, his smile made him look like the boy he must have been before he went out into a complicated world that needed to be hustled for a lad to get by. She could feel the steady beat of his heart as his chest leaned further into hers, silently encouraging her to slowly lie back again, body settling into the quilt cradled by moss and loam.

He looked at her eyes slowly closing, lashes against her cheek, and her mouth, mirroring her struggle between composure and enjoyment of the moment. _Enjoyment was winning_, he thought, as her lips curved into a smile most likely broader than she realized. There was something about the dance of two people moving from sitting straight to lying prone…the silent acknowledgement that there had been a change, a new course set…new possibilities introduced.

He looked, fascinated, as she tipped her chin up by faint few degrees. He wondered if this was how she had been with her first real kiss, her first recline into male arms..her first letting go and waiting to see what followed. Even now, she could claim drowsiness, the warmth of the sun, a misunderstanding.

His expression was unusually solemn as he touched her cheek, stroked down to her throat. Twenty-five years ago, he would have had a hand up her skirt or down her pants by now, rubbing hard against her and kissing breasts bared by shoving sweater and bra up out of the way, whispering all the reasons she should give in. Twenty-five years ago, he wasn't sure friendships between birds and blokes were even possible, much less desirable.

He laid an experimental hand over her flat stomach, resting it there against her warmth. Touching with hands seemed so much more…_deliberate_ than bodies seemingly twining together of their own volition during dreams. She ran a sure hand up his arm, and without opening her eyes, tugged at his shoulder.

He inwardly sighed as he rolled onto her body, taking enough weight onto his arms so she wouldn't feel crushed. He felt his hardness settle solidly between her legs, their jeans making rasping noises as they fitted into each other. He let himself rest his cheek between her breasts for the space of a few heartbeats, breathing in the scent of her skin and soap._It would be so easy…._

He lifted his head, mouth open to ask, his hardness throbbing in tune with her pulse, when he saw the tear. Her eyes still closed, and her mouth still curved into that sweet half-smile, she even curved her hand into his hair…but a fragile tear was balanced at the corner of her eye. As he watched, it lost its balance on her lashes and ran down the side of her cheek, into the hair around her temple.

"Jane. Janie, look at me, love."

She opened her eyes, fluttering her lashes in a way that would have been charming if he hadn't been close enough to see she was trying to blink more tears away.

"Don't…oh, Lovejoy, would you just…stop looking at me? Please…come here." She pulled him closer into her body.

"I'm right here, love. I'm already here…." He kissed the tip of her nose, then touched the drying path the tear had left. "What's this about, then? Do you want to go in, or…?" He cupped her face in his hand.

"I want…what we're doing now. I want this…it's why we're here, isn't it? Why I'm lying underneath you, and feeling you on me…." She rolled her hips gently against him, intention unmistakable. He groaned deep in his throat then, mouth falling onto hers, tasting tea and salt. He lightly teased her tongue with his, then tossed aside all his practiced skill and lost himself in her mouth, as they let their pent-up feelings flow between his lips and hers. Both breathed out soft groans as their bodies moved against each other, echoing the movement of their mouths.

He felt sixteen again as he palmed her breast over her shirt. He wondered if she did, too, arching into him the way she was. He raised his hand to hold her cheek again…and his thumb brushed against another track of dampness from eye to hair.

"Janie…." She brushed her fingers over her eyes and reached for his hand again. He pulled back.

"I know I'm not the greatest lover in the world, but I don't usually make women weep." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She brushed at her eyes again with a shaky laugh. "I don't know what's wrong with me…I do want this, in case you couldn't tell." The flush that had started at her throat rose into her cheeks.

He shifted some of his weight off her warm, welcoming body. "You want this…it certainly seems so." He turned his face into her neck. "Is it…do you want _me_, Janie? Or do you want the love-making? I'm good either way, believe me, but…I'd like an idea of what's happening here."

He felt her chest tighten. He watched her stare into the canopy of trees above them. A grim thought insinuated itself into his mind.

"Janie, do you wish I was Alexander?" He cursed his stupid question as he saw her eyes well up again.

"I could never…would never wish you were anyone but yourself, Lovejoy." She looked at him, then, eyes shining and warm. "I…it's you I want." She traced a finger around his eyes, along his face.

"So, you've got me, love. Dying to make you happy—" he broke off to kiss the hollow of her throat. "Wanting, if I may, to fulfill any fantasies you ever had about making love in an enchanted forest…so what keeps making you weep? " He held her gaze with his. "You can tell me, Janie. You've always…you can tell me anything. You know that."

She heard the hint of finality in his tone, even as one hand continued to idly stroke her neck. She looked away again. "I told you I don't wish you were Alexander, or anyone else other than who you are. I'm perfectly happy with you, with this. For a moment, though…I wished my husband would look at me, think of me…like you do." Her speech quickened and she held him from pulling back again. "I'd never tell a…a lover, if I took one, anything like that. It sounds so damned pathetic, 'oh, my husband doesn't fancy me anymore'. I'd hoped you would understand…you're so good at understanding me when I've gone a bit daft."

He sighed, "You're a moral girl, Jane. You'd feel ever so much better if your lawful wedded ex cetera was lying here, looking at you with lust in his eyes, thinking of nothing besides making love to you until you were both half-dead with pleasure. That about the size of it, then, the thing that's making you…sad?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe more wistful than sad, possibly, but yes, you seem to have gotten well enough into my head to get to the heart of things." She smiled then. "As you seem to be able to do most of the time."

The sun coming through the leaves felt hot where it touched her body, warming her stomach, the valley between her breasts, the fullness between her legs. She closed her eyes with a sense of finality, and when she opened them again to look at him, they were tearless and bright.

"But my moral little wishes aren't going to happen, are they? And I certainly do love…the way you look at me…the way you look now, all serious and sweet and caring, and just a hint of brooding." Her tongue played along her bottom lip without her seeming to realize it.

"I don't 'brood', for God's sake." He tried to look serious and failed miserably. "I'd make a terrible Heathcliff."

She began stroking his chest, lightly raking his nipples through his shirt. "I can see you as a decent Rhett Butler, though."

Following her lead, he ran his hand down her body, unbuttoning the last shirt buttons one-handed so he could stroke smooth warm skin.

"You mean the bloke who scraps and argues with the lady all day, then shags her all night 'til she can't stop smiling?"

She arched into his hand as she closed her eyes. "That would be him, yes."

He kissed the skin along her jaw and upward, nipping her earlobe, nipping harder as she groaned low in her throat. His breathing became harsher as he fumbled with the snap on her jeans, then tugged at the zipper.

"I'll certainly do my best—" he gasped as her hand moved along his stomach, down into his jeans.

She felt a melting inside her as she stroked his hard smooth shaft. _I'll be moral tomorrow_, she thought. _Just let me have this one afternoon to hold onto. Just this one._

He worked his fingers down into her jeans, feeling the slick of her readiness, the swollen richness of her. Her hand was making him grind into her palm. _I'll never interfere, never try to influence her, just let me have this. I'll support her however she wants…just give us this memory._

Clothes in a tangled heap next to them, quilt starting to bunch, he was over her then, mouths working against each other, teeth scraping against lips, breath coming hot and ragged. Even as she was opening to him, she broke the kiss and smiled with flushed lips.

"Lovejoy, promise you'll never stop being my friend."

She bit along his neck as he stilled, poised at her heat.

"God, Janie…always. Friends always. I—" He joined with her then, lost words gasped into her neck, her mouth.

Across the creek, huge brown eyes flicked up to the sounds coming from the far bank, then quietly melted deeper into the forest, leaving the humans to their play.

...TBC 


	8. Chapter 8

"The dogs' names are _what?"_

"Cabernet and Chardonnay. I think it's cute." Jane divided her head-pats between the black Lab and the Golden Retriever.

"Adorable." Lovejoy rolled his eyes, wishing they hadn't ever gotten up from the tattered creek-side quilt. He watched the Lab's insistent nudging at Jane's hand, rubbing his big head against her leg and looking at her with soulful eyes. He wondered if the dog was picking up on a hint of post-coital guilt…he looked like he was trying to be comforting.

Jane had been almost giddy, positively reveling in sensuality and their daring…for about an hour or so. That seemed to have gotten packed up with the picnic leavings. By the time they were back at the cabin, there was almost an air of…not standoffishness, exactly, but an atmosphere different from new lovers alone. He thought it had all been glorious, and she had given every indication (three times, as he recalled) that she had thoroughly enjoyed their time at the creek…but now, it seemed their vocabulary of "just friends" language had no words that fit their new situation.

Both had been relieved when, at a loss for words in the living room, she had spotted the brochure for the nearby winery. Tramping about the beginning vineyards and exploring the chateau-like winery gave them less sensitive topics of conversation, allowing them breathing room before any "what now?" talk.

He had any number of conversation-starters, tried and true, for getting back on solid ground after leaving the bed of a married woman, assuming he wasn't leaving out a window. Nothing seemed quite right, somehow. None of them had been what he would consider "friends"…friendly enough for the duration, but not like him and Jane. "Him and Jane" …that felt like it was written in meter-high neon letters in his mind, and a neon question mark after flickered on and off in his mind's eye.

Adulterous guilt or not, she had no qualms dragging him around the gift shop, poking at all sorts of wine-related rubbish. Sorting through the dross, Jane's fingers fell on a gentleman's corkscrew, hammered copper design over polished steel. He raised an eyebrow at that. Not suited to him whatsoever…

"Do you think Alex—" she broke off in confusion, corkscrew in midair. What was the etiquette here, she wondered. Was it still acceptable to ask him if he thought her husband would like this or that? Should she be acting like he didn't exist at all?

He gently took it from her hovering hand, turning it this way and that, considering the lines, the weight.

"Yeah, Janie. I think he'd like that. Looks like something he'd use." He handed it back, not meeting her eye at first. He finally looked at her, inwardly sighed over her furrowed brow. Moving closer, he spoke softly near her ear.

"Any other outing, if you saw something he'd like, you'd just get it, right? Nothing's changed about that, Janie."

She ran her fingers over the shiny steel again. A smile flickered across her face.

"Quite right, I suppose."

Mentioning Alex seemed to break the thin tension between them. At least it got Jane in a shopping mood again. Lovejoy's hands began to fill up with wine-themed lotions, a Merlot-scented soap, two identical bottle stoppers, and an apron. He wondered what memories these would bring to her a year, two years down the road. He tried to imagine her frying eggs in his cottage, apron tied around her waist, but his imagination was not up to the task of placing her in any kitchen other than the one in Felsham Hall. And even that took a bit of a stretch.

******

60 miles south, a tanned, tired group of international finance and banking executives, merger consultants, division managers, and department heads scrambled to prepare for an allegedly casual lake house supper. Alex tried to steal a kiss or ear nibble off Candace as she grumbled and fussed with a mediocre hair dryer in the guest bath.

"Alex, honey, why don't you go have a drink with Martin and them while I try to do something with this mess?" She flipped a frustrated hand towards her blond layers that seemed to be misbehaving. A couple of tubes of this and that and a small pot of something purple were scattered in front of her on the sink.

"If you're sure…?" His hair had fallen into place with a couple of passes with his comb, one lock announcing "professional casual" dipping over his pinkening forehead.

"Oh, sure honey…you go on, now. I'll be there in just one more minute." He watched her remove a clip and another tube from her bottomless purse and decided a drink sounded marvelous. And also that 'one more minute' sounded wildly optimistic.

The guest room door beyond the bathroom had barely clicked closed behind him when Candace twisted her fluffy blond curls up into a neat sculpted twist, securing it with a somewhat Spartan tortoise shell clip. She dabbed and dotted until there was little of the "Southern sorority girl" look left.

Manicured nails dragged up a silk bag from the bottom of her purse. She smiled into the mirror as she fastened the strand of graduated pearls with the platinum catch at the back of her neck and added the matching earrings to her delicate lobes. Two buttons done up on her black silk shirt did away with any hint of cleavage. Finally, she dipped into her purse one last time, and pulled out her prize: the platinum and blue ring, an interlocking 'N' and 'C' engraved into the stone. Sliding it onto her right ring finger, she could feel her confidence spike.

She had a good time being the slightly air-headed Southern belle, holding a position hardly worth mentioning to the handsome Englishman who'd been sharing her bed this week. Time, though, to go back to being the UNC-Chapel Hill alumni with the MBA and an inside track. Her mouth watered as she imagined that first crisp swallow of Diet Pepsi after days of that damn sweet tea. Between the accentuated drawl and all the sugar, she imagined she could feel her teeth ache. Candace patted her hair as she readjusted to the steel fist inside the soft Southern velvet glove.

****************

The road was blending into the shadows cast by the trees as the day folded into twilight and beyond. The air was still sultry, a dank vegetative smell coming off of the red mud river as they passed over it on an old narrow bridge. A deer stood like stone at the edge of the road, head slowly turning to follow the rented car. Turning into the drive of Dove's Rest almost felt like coming home, the porch lights already on to light their way.

"Got all your swag, Janie?"

She held up her shopping bags from the winery and the craft shop. "Right here, Lovejoy. You've got the leftovers?"

"Yeah…and the brochures, and the cards, and the notes, and the catalogues."

He juggled the foil-wrapped container of leftover linguini with the detritus they had picked up from a number of "antique" shops, mostly full of fifty year old leavings of others, but a couple that had a selection of interesting vintage pieces.

Jane made her way down the slate steps to the front porch.

"Do you think you might go back for the Spear spoons?"

He dug for the house key. "Don't think so, Janie. They had a certain hum about them, but pre-American Civil War silver spoons aren't going to move well back home. Not when there's just two of them."

"Oh, I thought they were lovely…so simple and clean-lined."

He looked at her profile against the soft porch light. "We can go back in the morning if you like. Not everything has to come with a pre-determined resale value." He smiled. "You could use them for tea with one other person. Be a nice souvenir of our…your trip."

Her face clouded over as they went into the log cabin, cooling the air with the ceiling fans. She busied herself with putting the food away, arranging the shopping bags for packing in the morning.

"That might be nice. Do you think we'll have time to go back before getting on the road to Charlotte?"

He shrugged, annoyed to be reminded of their obligations of the next day. "We can make time, can't we? Unless you're keen to get back…"

Jane's reflection was ghostly pale in the kitchen window. She busied her hands sorting the wine coasters and stoppers on the counter, not looking at him.

"I'm not sure it's exactly being "keen". It just seems like…it's time to—to get back to real life."

"Janie!" He reached out to take hold of her shoulder, gently turning her around. "I happen to think that our time today—and I mean _all_ our time—has been some of the most real life I've ever had." He cupped her shoulder, looking down, trying to read her expression.

Jane suddenly softened, somehow, relaxing towards him without moving a muscle. Her eyes were focused on his lips as she tried to think 'friendship' thoughts, tried to leave thoughts of the creek bank behind.

"It was lovely, I agree. Lovejoy, I wouldn't take anything for today."

She finally met his eyes. He sighed to himself. He had so hoped there would be something certain, something promising in her look. All he could see instead was confusion mixed with passion, touched with guilt, and an overlay of trust. A trust in his friendship. He sensed he could overpower that trust, pretend he didn't recognize it for what it was, and dial the passion back up again._It would be easy,_ he thought. They'd fit together, moved together today as if they'd been lovers for years.

He ran a gentle finger over her cheek. _Once, it's a guilty but treasured memory, like buying a shiny holiday treat you really can't afford,_ he thought_. More than that, the stopping place gets lost and everyone's hurtling to ruin._ He'd seen it in collections amassed by obsessive men who lost everything trying to get just one more of whatever it was they were fixed on. That's nothing he'd wish on a friend.

She reached up to hold his finger and brushed a light kiss along his palm.

"Lovejoy, I feel terrible for saying this after…everything, but would you mind terribly…I hate to ask, but—"

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her hair. "Want me to take the couch tonight, love?"

Jane pulled back, surprised. "How did you…? Oh." Her mouth turned down. "I suppose your vast experience with married ladies is telling you how awkward I'd feel being around my husband a few hours after getting out of bed with you."

He tilted her chin until she had to meet his eyes. "No, sweet Janie. My vast experience with you, as your friend, is telling me that."

He lightly tickled along her ribs. "Besides, it wouldn't do to show up looking like we hadn't slept in days."

She laughed along with him, wondering if it sounded as hollow as it felt.

"Come on, then, let's grab a couple of pillows and watch a movie before we go our separate ways, eh?"

He pulled out a bottle of relatively dry red and waved her towards the VCR while he grabbed glasses and corkscrew.

"My, she keeps quite an assortment." She knelt down by the TV stand, leaning against the couch.  
>Here's <em>Casablanca…<em>" she flipped through the tapes.

"Oh, you want to watch a married woman torn between her husband and the man she—" He broke off to drink deep. "Her husband and Bogie? Depressing. What else?"

"_When Harry Met Sally_…um, I don't think so. Oh…_Fatal Attraction_." She sipped at her wine.

Lovejoy frowned. "Adultery and boiled bunnies, isn't that the one?"

She kept flipping. "Oh, would you look at this? I can't believe she'd have a copy of this! Did you ever go?"

He looked at the VHS cover, black with red lips, letters dripping. He looked down into his wineglass.

"Did you?"

She giggled. "My friends and I went before I got married."

He raised an eyebrow. "Go on…did you dress up? Or, down, as it were?"

"I'll never tell…but we did have our rice and water pistols. Now, what about you?"

"I might have done. Things were a bit mad with my mates in the late Seventies. And before you ask, no, I did not dress up!"

She punched his shoulder lightly. "I bet you'd look lovely in a suspender belt and stockings."

He punched back, gently. "Jane _is_almost "Janet", isn't it?"

Their poignant melancholy, which had threatened to spoil their last hours together, dissipated as she went to make some popcorn and bring the wine bottle to the coffee table. He went back to the bedroom and grabbed two pillows to arrange on the couch, and wondered if he still remembered the words to 'Time Warp'."

They leaned against each other, as comfortable as old friends could be, popcorn between them, wine glasses in hand. Both smiled and curled together as the first strains of 'Science Fiction/Double Feature' began against a backdrop of singing red lips. Decisions and complicated moral questions were set aside for the night while they enjoyed their detour into their younger days…their very own time warp.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

Summary: Alexander learns that Carolina girls are not, in fact, always sweet Southern pearls. Jane's true colors come through, shining bright. And Lovejoy...he'll be waiting if she falls...time after time.

Alexander's pale, aristocratic face was struggling to maintain the appearance of British calm. Small ruddy patches high on his cheeks were the only indicator of his anger. Those, and the quick pace of his expensive hand-tooled shoes on the plush carpet, as he made haste to his room.

Candace hung back at the elevator, shaking her head. Last night, at the dinner on the lake, things had been tense. Little was said on the ride back, and when he pointedly stopped at her hotel room door, standing aside to let her pass, neither spoke a word of protest. After an icy British "good night, Candace", he had shut the door behind her with an air of finality. The ice was still firmly in place today, it looked like.

After a couple of minutes, she figured he had had enough time to get to his room. She sighed and made her own trek down the hall. A shame, really, how things had gone.

She had tried to make the most critical points last night, giving him openings he just wouldn't take. She hadn't argued, really, not then. Not over dinner. She had too much to juggle as it was, trying to guide the others towards her proposals. She wasn't looking to make any enemies, and he was a sweetheart, in his way. She'd hoped he would take her suggestions, her hints, and mull them over during the night, maybe bringing some new ideas to this morning's meeting.

Her lip quirked at the thought that she might as well have hoped for a pony, while she was throwing wishes out into the universe. It would have done as much good.

She kicked her heels off beside the rumpled bed. Suitcase already packed, she did a last look around, looking for anything left behind before checking out. She used the hotel stationary to write out a short "Thanks for the excellent service" to the housekeeping staff, slipping it and a ten dollar bill under an empty glass. She jumped a bit when she heard the sharp rap on the door.

"Candace, may we talk?"

His cheeks were more flushed than they had been on the elevator.

She motioned him in with a polite "of course", guiding him to the chairs by the window. No beds today.

"I'm not…angry, really, as much as I'm puzzled. I thought after these past few days, all our talks…I confess I was expecting at least some support from you. What happened?"

_Bullshit, he's not angry_, she thought. She guessed this was close to what fury looked like on him.

She smoothed her black pinstriped skirt, then leaned towards him, the small work table between them. This was not going to be easy, but she'd try to find a way to be kind.

"Alex, we had close to a week for you to have given me an idea of your proposals, what you saw as the key points to consider. Instead, you wanted to play grab-ass and kissy-face, which was great for what it was, but…you didn't try very hard to win my support, even if you could have."

He began bristling at this.

"I didn't know it was some kind of game I had to win with you, Candace. I thought you knew me well enough to throw some support towards my ideas without me having to go over every jot and tittle ahead of time." He looked away." I thought we liked each other well enough for that. I thought I could count on you."

Her impatience was only betrayed by the jiggling of one high-arched foot, below the table where he couldn't see. She kept a carefully neutral expression on her face, making herself speak in measured tones.

"Alex,dear, you're my...fling. My very enjoyable English fling. You've been a real sweetheart. But this is my career…I have obligations to my company. Your ideas of merging across division lines would have been completely unworkable here. Your department restructure would have had personnel ramifications you appeared to never have thought through at all. Your fiscal ideas were fine, but the implementation in this business environment…" her voice trailed away as she tried to find accurate but non-condemning words.

Looking away from his wounded look, she leaned her chin on her folded hands.

"Honey, if I'd heard anything salvageable this morning that wouldn't have undercut my own proposals, I would have thrown you a bone, believe me. But I'm afraid I didn't. " She reached over and patted the back of his hand, her drawl becoming more pronounced.

"I'm a woman standin' in the doorway of the Good Ol' Boys' Club, and unfortunately, I can't be seen backin' a losing horse. I got way too much to lose."

She gave him her best sorority girl smile, all compassion and understanding, trying to soften her words. She knew she'd probably have to work with him again. She needed to be able to walk away without him hating the sight of her.

And truth be told, she wouldn't mind another roll in the hay with him, his next trip stateside. Another reason to sweeten things here at the end. He might even be salvageable to her purpose, if he could drop the superiority attitude long enough to take her seriously.

Alexander stood at this. "I think we're done here. I need to get to the airport."

Candace stood as well, holding out her hand.

"No hard feelings?" There was a twinkle in her eyes, barely. Parts of his visit had been lovely.

The same thought had flashed through his mind at the same time, and he took her hand. He almost hugged her from habits formed this week, then stopped himself and gave her hand a firm shake.

"Be well, Candace. Another time, perhaps, things will work out a bit better."

He left to finalize his check-out, and to give Jane a ring.

_Jane_…she would have picked up any verbal balls he might have dropped, if she'd been there. She would have supported his ideas, without him giving her a dissertation of their efficacy first.

He double-checked his bags, making sure everything was folded and secured. Reaching for his phone, he thought maybe he didn't give Jane enough credit for all she did as Lady Felsham. For all she did as his wife.

It might be time to…not exactly drive a _wedge_ between her and Lovejoy, but to remind her that she was his wife. Remind her, and himself, that they did have something together. It had been sweet and strong once. Maybe it could become so again.

"Jane? Janie…." He smiled without realizing it. "Are you ready to go home?"

Jane looked at Lovejoy's back, carefully turned towards her as he finished tidying up the cabin.

"I believe so. A few more bits of packing and we'll head out for the airport."

She looked around the great room, watched the large fan overhead slowly spin.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out so we could have spent more time together. I hope you don't feel this was a wasted trip."

She looked into the ashes in the fireplace and smiled. "Not at all, darling. Perhaps we can have more of a holiday on your next trip here."

A few directions and pleasantries later, including a grudging "give my best to Lovejoy", and Alexander clicked the phone shut. Jane looked at her handset for a second, trying to sort her thoughts.

She suddenly felt awkward. She had a quick flash of feeling that the next holiday to the United States would include either Alexander, or Lovejoy…but not both. Her throat tightened at the thought of choices ahead.

The morning passed quickly as a couple of errands were run, a pair of Spear spoons were purchased, and a surprise visitor was welcomed. By mutual and silent agreement, the sweetest part of the trip went unremarked, although Jane, then Lovejoy, spent a few solitary minutes looking towards the creek. They kept their thoughts to themselves, but afterwards, the awkwardness between them had dissipated into the Carolina afternoon.

Their visitor leaned up against her car, waiting for Lovejoy to finish loading the rental.

"It looks like your holiday did you some good."

Dovie Carr smiled at Jane, studying her face as if she were reading words on a page.

"It has been lovely. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get half of everything done we would have liked…." she could feel herself blushing a bit at this. "My husband is already talking about our next trip. I'd love to stay here again, but Alexander…I'm afraid he favors the modern, high-rise hotels."

Dovie gave an eerily accurate glance at a spot on the creek bank.

"That might be for the best. Not everyone appreciates country cabins. The isolation can be a bit much."

She looked back at Jane, her gaze serene.

"Pale peach, I think. Some blue swirled through."

Jane didn't even try to pretend she mistook the meaning.

"And the gray?"

Laugh lines crinkled around the older woman's eyes as her smile widened.

"I'm not seeing much gray right now. Whatever that may mean, it seems like an improvement. Peach and blue feels…sweeter, wouldn't you say?"

_Sweeter._ Jane turned that word over in her mind, deciding that it was a good enough word to describe how she felt.

She leaned against the rental, letting the afternoon sun light up her skin, as Lovejoy and Dovie chattered about antiques in the background.

They met in one of the airport bars that ringed the concourse. Alexander was introduced to the woman who had played host to Jane and Lovejoy, white-haired and graceful in slightly incongruous cowboy boots and jeans. He wondered if it was mandatory for North Carolina women of all ages to have a string of graduated pearls.

"We'll have to stay at your bed and breakfast, our next trip over. Jane said it was lovely."

He missed the eyebrow quirk that bounced between Mrs. Carr and Lovejoy.

"Oh, I'd be delighted to have you and Lady Jane as guests again. Unfortunately, I plan to put the B&B on the market soon. It…all the rooms, and guests, have gotten a bit beyond me, I'm afraid. After this season, I expect I'll be down to just one cabin. It's on the small side…for people who love rustic getaways."

She gave him a sunny smile as he caught his nose in mid-wrinkle.

As the quartet walked towards the gates. Jane turned to Lovejoy. "A week, you think?"

He shrugged. "Maybe less. There's not that many dealers that sound like good hunting ground. It's just that they're a bit spread out from the coast to the mountains. I'll let you know as soon as I book my flight."

Dovie, claiming the privilege of age and gender, asked Alexander if he'd help her pick out a bottle or two of duty-free Scotch. _What a sweet lady,_ he thought, as he gave her some tips on single-malt versus blends. He idly wondered if she'd been anything like Candace when she was younger.

"I wish you were coming back with us, Lovejoy." Her throat did that funny tightening again.

He looked at the planes landing, taxiing outside the window. "You and Alex'll be fine, Janie. You've not gotten any time with him since we've been here. A few hours with no…distractions, it might be good for you both." His smile was encouraging, but held a touch of wistfulness around the edges.

"And if it's not? Not good for us, I mean?" She restrained her urge to touch his face, his shoulder.

"Then we'll deal with that when I get home. I'll be there, Janie." He looked around, then quickly raised her hand to his lips. Holding tight, he whispered into her palm, "I'll always be there for you, Janie. You know that."

He dropped her hand slowly. "You deserve a chance to think about what you want, love. You deserve to be sure, when the time comes." He smiled. "Now, don't make me do my Bogart impression about regrets. I feel a right twit already, holding hands in the concourse."

That got a wry grin and a familiar "Oh, Lovejoy", at least.

"You're a good friend, Lovejoy." Dovie stood next to him as he watched the 747 taxi down the runway, then finally lift off.

"Eh?" He looked down at the woman next to him. "What you basing that on, love?"

"You've left her in a good place. That'll help things run smoother, on down the road, I think."

He looked back at the blue and white plane, now airborne and flying away. "Truth to tell, I hate to be leaving her at all. For the best, and all that, right?"

She touched his arm just enough to turn him from the window before the plane went out of sight into the clouds.

"Follow me to my car. I'll get those directions and notes. You can be in Raleigh before dark and I'll let Dale know to look for you. Call me if you have any snags. Meanwhile, I'll put in some calls to Wilmington, a couple of dealers I know there, then up the coast to the Outer Banks area. You'll love it.

"Once you've gone to those dealers, you can come back along the northwest, into the mountains. There's at least one dealer, maybe two, in Asheville that I'd recommend without reservation, as long as you know what you're doing."

She noticed he no longer had that sad, slightly lost expression that had come over him as he watched Jane walk away next to her husband. She could almost see the wheels turning as he connected the historical dots of likely places to find Revolutionary era antiques.

They walked out into a light Carolina breeze.

"Dovie?"

"Yes, Lovejoy?"

" 'I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship' ."

He laughed for the first time that day at her surprised chuckle.

"You'll both be fine, Lovejoy." She looked at him, silhouetted against the red and orange streaks of the beginning sunset in the deep blue sky.

"I suspect things will work themselves out...as time goes by."

FIN


End file.
